


rest your bones with me

by paintmelilacs



Series: Post-Mortem [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Coping Mechanisms, F/F, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Sleepy Kisses, Zeus Cabin - Freeform, basically its hot as fuck and annabeth and piper are sweating it out together, post-jasons death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:14:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27613979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintmelilacs/pseuds/paintmelilacs
Summary: They didn’t fit together perfectly, far from a precisely chiseled puzzle piece. Their scraped elbows knocked, and Piper’s sweat smelled like hard work, and every now and then a piece of Annabeth’s hair would fly into her face.But it was enough for Piper.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Piper McLean
Series: Post-Mortem [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018927
Comments: 9
Kudos: 31





	rest your bones with me

**Author's Note:**

> so nobody was going to tell me piper comfirmed likes women. i just had to find that out on my own huh.
> 
> anyways, this is my fluffy post jasons death pipabeth oneshot (which exists in the same series as post-mortem revelations, so go check that out!)  
> and trust me, i have more planned for her 😈

Sunlight streamed through the open skylight, outlining the day-light dust lazily floating in and out the stream of light.

In hindsight, it wasn’t the _best_ idea to open that particular window, seeing as they were trying to _circulate air flow_ and the skylight is on the _ceiling_ , but, Piper isn’t about to get up and fix it. Too lazy. Too far away.

Piper closed her eyes and let the heat wash the expression off her face, melting and sliding like the juice of a popsicle. Not that she minded. 

It was indeed too hot of a day to be outside. The sun beat down like an alcoholic on the grass, shriveling and browning it within mere hours. And although the campers of Camp Half-blood are the sons and daughters of _literal gods_ and have fought in _literal fucking wars_ , that isn’t enough to barter some proper air conditioning. Apparently.

The sleepy girl felt something shift against her skin and she opened her eyes, watching Annabeth peel her jacket from her sweat-slick skin.

The girl was all rough lines and jagged edges. Hard muscles, toned stomach, jagged scars.  Curly hair, gray streak. Grey eyes, worn look. 

It just made her all the more beautiful. 

And Piper could say that, platonically and objectively, because as a daughter of Aphrodite seeing beauty was part of the job whether she liked it or not, even if that beauty didn’t necessarily abide by typical standards. 

Annabeth had agreed to hunker down with her in the Zeus cabin for the day, mostly to get away from the extra body heat generated from their siblings in their respective cabins, but also just to see her. 

It wasn’t weird like how everyone thought it was. Most people avoided Cabin One like the plague—even before he died. It was home to _that_ God. The one that struck people down from the sky and started entire bloody wars over his one-night stands.

But it was just a place. Just a dusty old marble cabin. Piper doesn’t think _Zeus_ even sees it as a place worthy of his name, it can’t mean as much to him—The King of Gods—as the cabins meant to the other Gods. It was just a _place_.

(An empty place, that you would never have guessed by it looks that it was once _not_ empty, but that was long ago, and she didn’t like thinking about that.)

And so Piper laid on the miserable little periwinkle blue couch they had dragged into the cabin, it’s fabric so worn and picked at it was more foam then fabric. She laid next Annabeth, pressing their sticky sweaty bodies closer to each other for comfort, resting her bones with her. 

They didn’t fit together perfectly, far from a precisely chiseled puzzle piece. Their scraped elbows knocked, and Piper’s sweat smelled like hard work, and every now and then a piece of Annabeth’s hair would fly into her face. But it was enough for Piper. 

“It’s so hot.” Annabeth grumbled, shifting again.  Her thigh made a noise, much like separating two pieces of velcro, as it peeled itself from the couch just to be laid down again in a slightly different position.

Piper let her head rest against the top of the couch, (which was too short to really be comfortable and made her neck crane), and she closed her tired eyes again. 

(She liked closing her eyes. For a little while, it made it feel like the world wasn’t real.)

“I know it’s hot.” Piper said. “But we better soak it in now.”

“Why would we do that?”

“So when it’s winter again we don’t go _‘awh it’s so freezing, I wish it was hot’,_ we’ll remember this and we’ll go ‘ _at least its not boiling’.”_

Annabeth laughed and it sent vibrations through the couch and up to Piper’s face, where even with her eyes closed she could see clearly paint the picture of Annabeth laughing in her mind; Where the stoic state of her eyes broke for just a moment and her frown lines dressed up in uplifting curves. 

Piper smiled.

Annabeth soon quieted and hummed, dragging a finger lightly across Piper’s arm, aimless. “I’ll remember this just for that reason.”

Piper opened her eyes and turned her face lazily, just in time with Annabeth who moved the last inch into connecting their lips.

The kiss was slow and methodical, just like the long day and the heat beating down outside and the sweat that was forming a droplet on Piper’s temple. Made with the same force that pushed the tides and floated the clouds.

Nobody knew, and Piper was okay with that. She knew Annabeth didn’t want her forever; she only wanted Piper for these hot, sweaty and _slow_ moments, where she could unwind and unravel and pretend, _just for a moment,_ that she _wasn’t_ Annabeth Chase, demigod and warrior and architect and _holder of the world._

Piper simply thought it was nice to have hair to card her fingers through, and lips to meet and a nose to bump. 

It meant nothing, and that was okay. 

Annabeth's teeth grazed Piper’s lip lightly, maybe accidental maybe not, and she deepened the kiss. She tasted like vanilla chapstick. Piper dragged her fingertips up and down her tan thigh, lazily, and with no intent. 

And once again, Piper had her eyes closed. 

This was enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> comments, kudos, whatver you want amigos  
> (what else do we want to see post jasons death?)


End file.
